Ya, I received the text from my old highschool mate this morning about the tragic news. We both loved STP as that band along with many other awesome 90's alt rock bands were influential on our highschool band. Bummer indeed. I have his solo album "12 Bar Blues" in the truck as one of my regular spins and will crank it out much more frequently in honor of the man / the genius. RIP Mr. Weiland. fuckin shitty deal.
8/28/98- Camden, NJ
10/31/09- Philly
5/21/10- NYC
9/2/12- Philly, PA
7/19/13- Wrigley
10/19/13- Brooklyn, NY
10/21/13- Philly, PA
10/22/13- Philly, PA
10/27/13- Baltimore, MD
4/28/16- Philly, PA
4/29/16- Philly, PA
5/1/16- NYC
5/2/16- NYC
9/2/18- Boston, MA
9/4/18- Boston, MA
9/14/22- Camden, NJ
9/7/24- Philly, PA
9/9/24- Philly, PA
Tres Mts.- 3/23/11- Philly. PA
Eddie Vedder- 6/25/11- Philly, PA
RNDM- 3/9/16- Philly, PA
Have been saying for years that the last great "MTV" era music video is "Interstate Love Song." So awesome. Song and video! https://youtu.be/yjJL9DGU7Gg
So sad to see him go, saw STP three times in Buenos Aires, unfortunately not enough, 2008, 2010 and 2011, greatest comeback, they mixed the set list a lot specially the last two, never thought I could hear live Silvergun superman, Ride the cliche, Cinnamon, First kiss on Mars, Still remains, Dancing Days, even Piece of pie... I'm lost for words, just played 36 of my faves, 6 from each, hard to listen Still remains, Too cool queenie, Creep, Trippin in a hole in a paper heart, D & B is a no-no... Man, this is harsh...
Post edited by javis el errante on
... I am not in the business of being liked anymore ...
Don't get the discussions about addiction and worse of thinking you knew and seen it coming.
I know how I felt when I first experienced STP. The same feelings when hearing PJ for the first time. This man added to my life. Made me crank my music while hitting the accelerator burning rubber sliding sideways.
STP also released a live dvd called Alive In The Windy City. $15 at HMV. I think I'm going to get this now. Scott also released a live cd I didn't know about until today, a 10 track cd called Live In Los Angeles.
Its sad that just like Layne he became a living punchline because of drugs but just like Layne he was the real deal.
Yep… Nicely put. We don't live these peoples lives but they get judged a lot from people who never even knew them.. Maybe our own skeletons in the closet aren't so cool is why? Had a great day today listening to STP/VR, Scott was a beast. Glad I got to see him live with both bands.
1998 Dallas (7/5) 2006 San Fran (7/15,7/16) 2009 San Fran (8/28) 2010 Bristow (5/13) NY (5/21) 2011 Alpine Valley (9/3,9/4) 2012 Missoula (9/30) 2013 Chicago (7/19) Pittsburgh (10/11) Buffalo (10/12) Baltimore (10/27) Dallas (11/15) 2014 Austin (10/12) Memphis (10/14) St. Paul (10/19) Milwaukee (10/20) Denver (10/22) 2016 Ft. Lauderdale (4/8) Miami (4/9) Hampton (4/18) Philly (4/28,4/29) NY (5/1,5/2) 2018 Seattle (8/10) Missoula (8/13) 2022 Nashville (9/16) E.V. - 2008 Berkeley (4/8) 2012 Austin (11/9,11/12) Temple of the Dog - 2016 Upper Darby
Mary Forsberg Weiland is the mother of the late singer Scott Weiland's teenage children, Noah, 15, and Lucy, 13. She wrote this with their help in the days after his death on Dec 3rd.
December 3rd, 2015 is not the day Scott Weiland died. It is the official day the public will use to mourn him, and it was the last day he could be propped up in front of a microphone for the financial benefit or enjoyment of others. The outpouring of condolences and prayers offered to our children, Noah and Lucy, has been overwhelming, appreciated and even comforting. But the truth is, like so many other kids, they lost their father years ago. What they truly lost on December 3rd was hope.
We don't want to downplay Scott's amazing talent, presence or his ability to light up any stage with brilliant electricity. So many people have been gracious enough to praise his gift. The music is here to stay. But at some point, someone needs to step up and point out that yes, this will happen again – because as a society we almost encourage it. We read awful show reviews, watch videos of artists falling down, unable to recall their lyrics streaming on a teleprompter just a few feet away. And then we click "add to cart" because what actually belongs in a hospital is now considered art.
Many of these artists have children. Children with tears in their eyes, experiencing panic because their cries go unheard. You might ask, "How were we to know? We read that he loved spending time with his children and that he'd been drug-free for years!" In reality, what you didn't want to acknowledge was a paranoid man who couldn't remember his own lyrics and who was only photographed with his children a handful of times in 15 years of fatherhood. I've always wanted to share more than anyone was comfortable with. When writing a book years ago, it pained me to sometimes gloss over so much grief and struggle, but I did what I thought was best for Noah and Lucy. I knew they would one day see and feel everything that I'd been trying to shield them from, and that they'd eventually be brave enough to say, "That mess was our father. We loved him, but a deep-rooted mix of love and disappointment made up the majority of our relationship with him."
Even after Scott and I split up, I spent countless hours trying to calm his paranoid fits, pushing him into the shower and filling him with coffee, just so that I could drop him into the audience at Noah's talent show, or Lucy's musical. Those short encounters were my attempts at giving the kids a feeling of normalcy with their dad. But anything longer would often turn into something scary and uncomfortable for them. Spending so many years immersed in Scott's multiple illnesses led to my own depression; at one point, I was misdiagnosed as bipolar. I feared the same would happen to the children. There were times that Child Protective Services did not allow him to to be alone with them.
When Scott did move on to another relationship, I hoped it would inspire him to grow. I had often encouraged him to date a "normal" girl, a woman who was also a mother, someone who had the energy that I no longer had to love him. Instead, when he remarried, the children were replaced. They were not invited to his wedding; child support checks often never arrived. Our once sweet Catholic boy refused to watch the kids participate in Christmas Eve plays because he was now an atheist. They have never set foot into his house, and they can't remember the last time they saw him on a Father's Day. I don't share this with you to cast judgment, I do so because you most likely know at least one child in the same shoes. If you do, please acknowledge them and their experience. Offer to accompany them to the father-daughter dance, or teach them to throw a football. Even the bravest girl or boy will refrain from asking for something like that; they may be ashamed, or not want to inconvenience you. Just offer – or even insist if you have to.
This is the final step in our long goodbye to Scott. Even though I felt we had no other choice, maybe we never should have let him go. Or maybe these last few years of separation were his parting gift to us – the only way he could think to soften what he knew would one day crush us deep into our souls. Over the last few years, I could hear his sadness and confusion when he'd call me late into the night, often crying about his inability to separate himself from negative people and bad choices. I won't say he can rest now, or that he's in a better place. He belongs with his children barbecuing in the backyard and waiting for a Notre Dame game to come on. We are angry and sad about this loss, but we are most devastated that he chose to give up.
Noah and Lucy never sought perfection from their dad. They just kept hoping for a little effort. If you're a parent not giving your best effort, all anyone asks is that you try just a little harder and don't give up. Progress, not perfection, is what your children are praying for. Our hope for Scott has died, but there is still hope for others. Let's choose to make this first time we don't glorify this tragedy with talk of rock and roll and the demons that, by the way, don't have to come with it. Skip the depressing T-shirt with 1967-2015 on it – use the money to take a kid to a ballgame or out for ice cream.
Very real but also pretty harsh. I dont know. Im sure he was an awful father and thats his loss. Being a dad is the best thing in life. Thats his selfish choices at work. This piece just seems a little self serving at times. Like the wives obviously dont like eachother...
Mary Forsberg Weiland is the mother of the late singer Scott Weiland's teenage children, Noah, 15, and Lucy, 13. She wrote this with their help in the days after his death on Dec 3rd.
December 3rd, 2015 is not the day Scott Weiland died. It is the official day the public will use to mourn him, and it was the last day he could be propped up in front of a microphone for the financial benefit or enjoyment of others. The outpouring of condolences and prayers offered to our children, Noah and Lucy, has been overwhelming, appreciated and even comforting. But the truth is, like so many other kids, they lost their father years ago. What they truly lost on December 3rd was hope.
We don't want to downplay Scott's amazing talent, presence or his ability to light up any stage with brilliant electricity. So many people have been gracious enough to praise his gift. The music is here to stay. But at some point, someone needs to step up and point out that yes, this will happen again – because as a society we almost encourage it. We read awful show reviews, watch videos of artists falling down, unable to recall their lyrics streaming on a teleprompter just a few feet away. And then we click "add to cart" because what actually belongs in a hospital is now considered art.
Many of these artists have children. Children with tears in their eyes, experiencing panic because their cries go unheard. You might ask, "How were we to know? We read that he loved spending time with his children and that he'd been drug-free for years!" In reality, what you didn't want to acknowledge was a paranoid man who couldn't remember his own lyrics and who was only photographed with his children a handful of times in 15 years of fatherhood. I've always wanted to share more than anyone was comfortable with. When writing a book years ago, it pained me to sometimes gloss over so much grief and struggle, but I did what I thought was best for Noah and Lucy. I knew they would one day see and feel everything that I'd been trying to shield them from, and that they'd eventually be brave enough to say, "That mess was our father. We loved him, but a deep-rooted mix of love and disappointment made up the majority of our relationship with him."
Even after Scott and I split up, I spent countless hours trying to calm his paranoid fits, pushing him into the shower and filling him with coffee, just so that I could drop him into the audience at Noah's talent show, or Lucy's musical. Those short encounters were my attempts at giving the kids a feeling of normalcy with their dad. But anything longer would often turn into something scary and uncomfortable for them. Spending so many years immersed in Scott's multiple illnesses led to my own depression; at one point, I was misdiagnosed as bipolar. I feared the same would happen to the children. There were times that Child Protective Services did not allow him to to be alone with them.
When Scott did move on to another relationship, I hoped it would inspire him to grow. I had often encouraged him to date a "normal" girl, a woman who was also a mother, someone who had the energy that I no longer had to love him. Instead, when he remarried, the children were replaced. They were not invited to his wedding; child support checks often never arrived. Our once sweet Catholic boy refused to watch the kids participate in Christmas Eve plays because he was now an atheist. They have never set foot into his house, and they can't remember the last time they saw him on a Father's Day. I don't share this with you to cast judgment, I do so because you most likely know at least one child in the same shoes. If you do, please acknowledge them and their experience. Offer to accompany them to the father-daughter dance, or teach them to throw a football. Even the bravest girl or boy will refrain from asking for something like that; they may be ashamed, or not want to inconvenience you. Just offer – or even insist if you have to.
This is the final step in our long goodbye to Scott. Even though I felt we had no other choice, maybe we never should have let him go. Or maybe these last few years of separation were his parting gift to us – the only way he could think to soften what he knew would one day crush us deep into our souls. Over the last few years, I could hear his sadness and confusion when he'd call me late into the night, often crying about his inability to separate himself from negative people and bad choices. I won't say he can rest now, or that he's in a better place. He belongs with his children barbecuing in the backyard and waiting for a Notre Dame game to come on. We are angry and sad about this loss, but we are most devastated that he chose to give up.
Noah and Lucy never sought perfection from their dad. They just kept hoping for a little effort. If you're a parent not giving your best effort, all anyone asks is that you try just a little harder and don't give up. Progress, not perfection, is what your children are praying for. Our hope for Scott has died, but there is still hope for others. Let's choose to make this first time we don't glorify this tragedy with talk of rock and roll and the demons that, by the way, don't have to come with it. Skip the depressing T-shirt with 1967-2015 on it – use the money to take a kid to a ballgame or out for ice cream.
this is totally fucked. we gotta take better care of our 90's heros
We do?
Edit: if this guy was one of your heroes..... I don't know what to say about that...... He was a great songwriter & performer, but beyond that I don't see all that much to emulate.
Addiction sucks, and is a horrible thing, this guy has been a walking disaster for a long time. At the risk of repeating myself, the only surprising thing to me is that this didn't happen sooner.
Bummer to see another talented artist brought down by drugs, but he's no hero in my book.
actually i was one of those who didn't care much for STP too much. I think I got Purple and Tiny Music in one of those 12 for 1cent Columbia House Deals. I liked the hits, but found most of the other songs to be okay.
Scott Weiland made it. He has a place in rock music history. True, he was never one of my 'heros', but he might have been to some people.
He needed help and never really got it. The fame and the money only enabled him more. And for that, we the public are partly responsible. we financed all the smack and coke that went into Weiland's system.
Mary Forsberg Weiland is the mother of the late singer Scott Weiland's teenage children, Noah, 15, and Lucy, 13. She wrote this with their help in the days after his death on Dec 3rd.
December 3rd, 2015 is not the day Scott Weiland died. It is the official day the public will use to mourn him, and it was the last day he could be propped up in front of a microphone for the financial benefit or enjoyment of others. The outpouring of condolences and prayers offered to our children, Noah and Lucy, has been overwhelming, appreciated and even comforting. But the truth is, like so many other kids, they lost their father years ago. What they truly lost on December 3rd was hope.
We don't want to downplay Scott's amazing talent, presence or his ability to light up any stage with brilliant electricity. So many people have been gracious enough to praise his gift. The music is here to stay. But at some point, someone needs to step up and point out that yes, this will happen again – because as a society we almost encourage it. We read awful show reviews, watch videos of artists falling down, unable to recall their lyrics streaming on a teleprompter just a few feet away. And then we click "add to cart" because what actually belongs in a hospital is now considered art.
Many of these artists have children. Children with tears in their eyes, experiencing panic because their cries go unheard. You might ask, "How were we to know? We read that he loved spending time with his children and that he'd been drug-free for years!" In reality, what you didn't want to acknowledge was a paranoid man who couldn't remember his own lyrics and who was only photographed with his children a handful of times in 15 years of fatherhood. I've always wanted to share more than anyone was comfortable with. When writing a book years ago, it pained me to sometimes gloss over so much grief and struggle, but I did what I thought was best for Noah and Lucy. I knew they would one day see and feel everything that I'd been trying to shield them from, and that they'd eventually be brave enough to say, "That mess was our father. We loved him, but a deep-rooted mix of love and disappointment made up the majority of our relationship with him."
Even after Scott and I split up, I spent countless hours trying to calm his paranoid fits, pushing him into the shower and filling him with coffee, just so that I could drop him into the audience at Noah's talent show, or Lucy's musical. Those short encounters were my attempts at giving the kids a feeling of normalcy with their dad. But anything longer would often turn into something scary and uncomfortable for them. Spending so many years immersed in Scott's multiple illnesses led to my own depression; at one point, I was misdiagnosed as bipolar. I feared the same would happen to the children. There were times that Child Protective Services did not allow him to to be alone with them.
When Scott did move on to another relationship, I hoped it would inspire him to grow. I had often encouraged him to date a "normal" girl, a woman who was also a mother, someone who had the energy that I no longer had to love him. Instead, when he remarried, the children were replaced. They were not invited to his wedding; child support checks often never arrived. Our once sweet Catholic boy refused to watch the kids participate in Christmas Eve plays because he was now an atheist. They have never set foot into his house, and they can't remember the last time they saw him on a Father's Day. I don't share this with you to cast judgment, I do so because you most likely know at least one child in the same shoes. If you do, please acknowledge them and their experience. Offer to accompany them to the father-daughter dance, or teach them to throw a football. Even the bravest girl or boy will refrain from asking for something like that; they may be ashamed, or not want to inconvenience you. Just offer – or even insist if you have to.
This is the final step in our long goodbye to Scott. Even though I felt we had no other choice, maybe we never should have let him go. Or maybe these last few years of separation were his parting gift to us – the only way he could think to soften what he knew would one day crush us deep into our souls. Over the last few years, I could hear his sadness and confusion when he'd call me late into the night, often crying about his inability to separate himself from negative people and bad choices. I won't say he can rest now, or that he's in a better place. He belongs with his children barbecuing in the backyard and waiting for a Notre Dame game to come on. We are angry and sad about this loss, but we are most devastated that he chose to give up.
Noah and Lucy never sought perfection from their dad. They just kept hoping for a little effort. If you're a parent not giving your best effort, all anyone asks is that you try just a little harder and don't give up. Progress, not perfection, is what your children are praying for. Our hope for Scott has died, but there is still hope for others. Let's choose to make this first time we don't glorify this tragedy with talk of rock and roll and the demons that, by the way, don't have to come with it. Skip the depressing T-shirt with 1967-2015 on it – use the money to take a kid to a ballgame or out for ice cream.
I applaud her!
Post edited by primussucks on
Summerfest 7/8/95 Missoula 6/20/98 Alpine Valley 6/26/98 & 6/27/98 Alpine Valley 10/8/00
Champaign 4/23/03 Alpine Valley 6/21/03 Missoula 8/29/05
Chicago 5/16 & 17/06 Grand Rapids 5/19/06 Summerfest 6/29/06 & 6/30/06
Tampa 6/12/08
Chicago 8/23/09
Indy 5/7/10 Alpine Valley x2 2011 Wrigley 2013 Milwaukee 14 Telluride 16
Don't get the discussions about addiction and worse of thinking you knew and seen it coming.
I know how I felt when I first experienced STP. The same feelings when hearing PJ for the first time. This man added to my life. Made me crank my music while hitting the accelerator burning rubber sliding sideways. I don't care about his personal life or what drugs he took. All petty BS.
Cranked STP last night, will do so again today.
So you wouldn't care if Ed was an addict? You wouldn't care about knowing there is a possibility this news could be Ed tomorrow?
Mary Forsberg Weiland is the mother of the late singer Scott Weiland's teenage children, Noah, 15, and Lucy, 13. She wrote this with their help in the days after his death on Dec 3rd.
December 3rd, 2015 is not the day Scott Weiland died. It is the official day the public will use to mourn him, and it was the last day he could be propped up in front of a microphone for the financial benefit or enjoyment of others. The outpouring of condolences and prayers offered to our children, Noah and Lucy, has been overwhelming, appreciated and even comforting. But the truth is, like so many other kids, they lost their father years ago. What they truly lost on December 3rd was hope.
We don't want to downplay Scott's amazing talent, presence or his ability to light up any stage with brilliant electricity. So many people have been gracious enough to praise his gift. The music is here to stay. But at some point, someone needs to step up and point out that yes, this will happen again – because as a society we almost encourage it. We read awful show reviews, watch videos of artists falling down, unable to recall their lyrics streaming on a teleprompter just a few feet away. And then we click "add to cart" because what actually belongs in a hospital is now considered art.
Many of these artists have children. Children with tears in their eyes, experiencing panic because their cries go unheard. You might ask, "How were we to know? We read that he loved spending time with his children and that he'd been drug-free for years!" In reality, what you didn't want to acknowledge was a paranoid man who couldn't remember his own lyrics and who was only photographed with his children a handful of times in 15 years of fatherhood. I've always wanted to share more than anyone was comfortable with. When writing a book years ago, it pained me to sometimes gloss over so much grief and struggle, but I did what I thought was best for Noah and Lucy. I knew they would one day see and feel everything that I'd been trying to shield them from, and that they'd eventually be brave enough to say, "That mess was our father. We loved him, but a deep-rooted mix of love and disappointment made up the majority of our relationship with him."
Even after Scott and I split up, I spent countless hours trying to calm his paranoid fits, pushing him into the shower and filling him with coffee, just so that I could drop him into the audience at Noah's talent show, or Lucy's musical. Those short encounters were my attempts at giving the kids a feeling of normalcy with their dad. But anything longer would often turn into something scary and uncomfortable for them. Spending so many years immersed in Scott's multiple illnesses led to my own depression; at one point, I was misdiagnosed as bipolar. I feared the same would happen to the children. There were times that Child Protective Services did not allow him to to be alone with them.
When Scott did move on to another relationship, I hoped it would inspire him to grow. I had often encouraged him to date a "normal" girl, a woman who was also a mother, someone who had the energy that I no longer had to love him. Instead, when he remarried, the children were replaced. They were not invited to his wedding; child support checks often never arrived. Our once sweet Catholic boy refused to watch the kids participate in Christmas Eve plays because he was now an atheist. They have never set foot into his house, and they can't remember the last time they saw him on a Father's Day. I don't share this with you to cast judgment, I do so because you most likely know at least one child in the same shoes. If you do, please acknowledge them and their experience. Offer to accompany them to the father-daughter dance, or teach them to throw a football. Even the bravest girl or boy will refrain from asking for something like that; they may be ashamed, or not want to inconvenience you. Just offer – or even insist if you have to.
This is the final step in our long goodbye to Scott. Even though I felt we had no other choice, maybe we never should have let him go. Or maybe these last few years of separation were his parting gift to us – the only way he could think to soften what he knew would one day crush us deep into our souls. Over the last few years, I could hear his sadness and confusion when he'd call me late into the night, often crying about his inability to separate himself from negative people and bad choices. I won't say he can rest now, or that he's in a better place. He belongs with his children barbecuing in the backyard and waiting for a Notre Dame game to come on. We are angry and sad about this loss, but we are most devastated that he chose to give up.
Noah and Lucy never sought perfection from their dad. They just kept hoping for a little effort. If you're a parent not giving your best effort, all anyone asks is that you try just a little harder and don't give up. Progress, not perfection, is what your children are praying for. Our hope for Scott has died, but there is still hope for others. Let's choose to make this first time we don't glorify this tragedy with talk of rock and roll and the demons that, by the way, don't have to come with it. Skip the depressing T-shirt with 1967-2015 on it – use the money to take a kid to a ballgame or out for ice cream.
Wow. No. I think the one, two?, threads here are about paying respects and offering sympathy.
Sure hope there's no condescension toward those doing the same for the loss of a fellow member.
Well perhaps we should have a category dedicated to those who are lost.
Perhaps you could rein it in for the two threads dedicated to people who have passed lately. Show some respect for the love, if you know how. Don't like what you see here then go and play in the 12 or so threads about a possible tour or go back to AMT and harass the people there.
Anything you lose from being honest You never really had to begin with.
Sometimes it's not the song that makes you emotional it's the people and things that come to your mind when you hear it.
Comments
Very sad. This guy had kids to take care of. You have to drop those habits
2010 WATCH IT GO TO FIRE!!
10/31/09- Philly
5/21/10- NYC
9/2/12- Philly, PA
7/19/13- Wrigley
10/19/13- Brooklyn, NY
10/21/13- Philly, PA
10/22/13- Philly, PA
10/27/13- Baltimore, MD
4/28/16- Philly, PA
4/29/16- Philly, PA
5/1/16- NYC
5/2/16- NYC
9/2/18- Boston, MA
9/4/18- Boston, MA
9/14/22- Camden, NJ
9/7/24- Philly, PA
9/9/24- Philly, PA
Eddie Vedder- 6/25/11- Philly, PA
RNDM- 3/9/16- Philly, PA
http://www.latimes.com/entertainment/music/posts/la-et-ms-scott-weiland-death-stone-temple-pilots-statement-20151204-story.html
https://youtu.be/yjJL9DGU7Gg
www.jonposey.us
http://www.alternativenation.net/scott-weiland-live-in-los-angeles-album-postponed-indefinitely/
I know how I felt when I first experienced STP. The same feelings when hearing PJ for the first time. This man added to my life. Made me crank my music while hitting the accelerator burning rubber sliding sideways.
Cranked STP last night, will do so again today.
SW had brilliance. No. 4 is underrated...#LOUD
www.headstonesband.com
2012 Missoula (9/30) 2013 Chicago (7/19) Pittsburgh (10/11) Buffalo (10/12) Baltimore (10/27) Dallas (11/15)
2014 Austin (10/12) Memphis (10/14) St. Paul (10/19) Milwaukee (10/20) Denver (10/22)
2016 Ft. Lauderdale (4/8) Miami (4/9) Hampton (4/18) Philly (4/28,4/29) NY (5/1,5/2) 2018 Seattle (8/10) Missoula (8/13) 2022 Nashville (9/16)
E.V. - 2008 Berkeley (4/8) 2012 Austin (11/9,11/12)
Temple of the Dog - 2016 Upper Darby
Scott Weiland's Family: 'Don't Glorify This Tragedy'
http://www.rollingstone.com/music/news/scott-weiland-s-family-dont-glorify-this-tragedy-20151207?page=2
Mary Forsberg Weiland is the mother of the late singer Scott Weiland's teenage children, Noah, 15, and Lucy, 13. She wrote this with their help in the days after his death on Dec 3rd.
December 3rd, 2015 is not the day Scott Weiland died. It is the official day the public will use to mourn him, and it was the last day he could be propped up in front of a microphone for the financial benefit or enjoyment of others. The outpouring of condolences and prayers offered to our children, Noah and Lucy, has been overwhelming, appreciated and even comforting. But the truth is, like so many other kids, they lost their father years ago. What they truly lost on December 3rd was hope.
We don't want to downplay Scott's amazing talent, presence or his ability to light up any stage with brilliant electricity. So many people have been gracious enough to praise his gift. The music is here to stay. But at some point, someone needs to step up and point out that yes, this will happen again – because as a society we almost encourage it. We read awful show reviews, watch videos of artists falling down, unable to recall their lyrics streaming on a teleprompter just a few feet away. And then we click "add to cart" because what actually belongs in a hospital is now considered art.
Many of these artists have children. Children with tears in their eyes, experiencing panic because their cries go unheard. You might ask, "How were we to know? We read that he loved spending time with his children and that he'd been drug-free for years!" In reality, what you didn't want to acknowledge was a paranoid man who couldn't remember his own lyrics and who was only photographed with his children a handful of times in 15 years of fatherhood. I've always wanted to share more than anyone was comfortable with. When writing a book years ago, it pained me to sometimes gloss over so much grief and struggle, but I did what I thought was best for Noah and Lucy. I knew they would one day see and feel everything that I'd been trying to shield them from, and that they'd eventually be brave enough to say, "That mess was our father. We loved him, but a deep-rooted mix of love and disappointment made up the majority of our relationship with him."
Even after Scott and I split up, I spent countless hours trying to calm his paranoid fits, pushing him into the shower and filling him with coffee, just so that I could drop him into the audience at Noah's talent show, or Lucy's musical. Those short encounters were my attempts at giving the kids a feeling of normalcy with their dad. But anything longer would often turn into something scary and uncomfortable for them. Spending so many years immersed in Scott's multiple illnesses led to my own depression; at one point, I was misdiagnosed as bipolar. I feared the same would happen to the children. There were times that Child Protective Services did not allow him to to be alone with them.
When Scott did move on to another relationship, I hoped it would inspire him to grow. I had often encouraged him to date a "normal" girl, a woman who was also a mother, someone who had the energy that I no longer had to love him. Instead, when he remarried, the children were replaced. They were not invited to his wedding; child support checks often never arrived. Our once sweet Catholic boy refused to watch the kids participate in Christmas Eve plays because he was now an atheist. They have never set foot into his house, and they can't remember the last time they saw him on a Father's Day. I don't share this with you to cast judgment, I do so because you most likely know at least one child in the same shoes. If you do, please acknowledge them and their experience. Offer to accompany them to the father-daughter dance, or teach them to throw a football. Even the bravest girl or boy will refrain from asking for something like that; they may be ashamed, or not want to inconvenience you. Just offer – or even insist if you have to.
This is the final step in our long goodbye to Scott. Even though I felt we had no other choice, maybe we never should have let him go. Or maybe these last few years of separation were his parting gift to us – the only way he could think to soften what he knew would one day crush us deep into our souls. Over the last few years, I could hear his sadness and confusion when he'd call me late into the night, often crying about his inability to separate himself from negative people and bad choices. I won't say he can rest now, or that he's in a better place. He belongs with his children barbecuing in the backyard and waiting for a Notre Dame game to come on. We are angry and sad about this loss, but we are most devastated that he chose to give up.
Noah and Lucy never sought perfection from their dad. They just kept hoping for a little effort. If you're a parent not giving your best effort, all anyone asks is that you try just a little harder and don't give up. Progress, not perfection, is what your children are praying for. Our hope for Scott has died, but there is still hope for others. Let's choose to make this first time we don't glorify this tragedy with talk of rock and roll and the demons that, by the way, don't have to come with it. Skip the depressing T-shirt with 1967-2015 on it – use the money to take a kid to a ballgame or out for ice cream.
Scott Weiland made it. He has a place in rock music history. True, he was never one of my 'heros', but he might have been to some people.
He needed help and never really got it. The fame and the money only enabled him more. And for that, we the public are partly responsible. we financed all the smack and coke that went into Weiland's system.
Missoula 6/20/98
Alpine Valley 6/26/98 & 6/27/98
Alpine Valley 10/8/00
Champaign 4/23/03
Alpine Valley 6/21/03
Missoula 8/29/05
Chicago 5/16 & 17/06
Grand Rapids 5/19/06
Summerfest 6/29/06 & 6/30/06
Tampa 6/12/08
Chicago 8/23/09
Indy 5/7/10
Alpine Valley x2 2011
Wrigley 2013
Milwaukee 14
Telluride 16
Sure hope there's no condescension toward those doing the same for the loss of a fellow member.
You never really had to begin with.
Sometimes it's not the song that makes you emotional it's the people and things that come to your mind when you hear it.